


Killing you softly

by Day_Mare



Category: D&D - Fandom
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Death, Discussions of death, F/F, Miscarriage, Whipping, ask to tag but, it's not graphic but it's all implied/stated
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-10-12 10:07:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17465492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Day_Mare/pseuds/Day_Mare
Summary: my Dnd characters background.





	Killing you softly

The old town of Blessing Cove felt itself waking up as a wagon rumbled through. The miners & fishermen (early risers alike) found themselves gaping, they’ve never seen such a family before. 

Blessing Cove was mostly full of men & dwarves with an odd elf here or there but driving the wagon was an orc, tall & stern with a lady at his side & two children at his side and given the giggles more in the back. 

What really set them apart was not their strange skin, nor piercings (which were rather normalized by the dwarves at least), nor their size, but their singing which was loud & strong begging for all to hear—there was a misery to it & somehow all the men knew whatever the words were saying it was not a pleasant song—perhaps a song of war? Or servitude? Or maybe just a tragedy. All they knew was they pulled their cloaks closer & quickly went to their work forcing the family out of their mind as it drove on. 

The family’s song slowly died as they reached their destination. The eldest kids looked out at the place with worry in their eyes knowing how long they’d be there, the babies were far more put out by the lack of song.

They arrived at Brookeline Manor. The Brookelines were a conservative (& coincidentally wealthy) family & an undeniably powerful family at that, equally undeniable was the fact they were dying out, only Max, his wife Carolynn, and their children Kylya & Dene were the only members of their once sprawling clan left. The only thing the Brookelines had was their image they fought to maintain. It was always fashionable to have orcs or other “lesser” creatures in their eyes as help, But orcs haven’t been so close to capital before it was unheard of, undone to the towns minds, it was exactly was the Brookelines wanted. 

Marogh “Mary” Durz was not a woman to be trifled with, any person who had the luxury of her company could of—would of said so. Today was no different. 

“Now sweetie listen to me. You must behave. Watch your tongue these people don’t understand our ways, they don’t understand us. So we have to be like them ok? Just play pretend until it’s time to go home. You remember Lady Valentine? Just act like her, that’s it just like that. Watch your pronunciation. Remember while we’re here you’re Babs ok? Like Auntie Barbara. Ok Bula dear?  
Now Thrula you caught all that? Good. Now in there you’re River remember.” Without waiting for an answer she shot a look to her husband Dular “De” the “head” of the household who gave a sigh. He was quite content to just listen to his wife fuss with a smile on his face, that’s why he married her. With movements as steady as his limp would allow he walked to the door & introduced himself. After all why put off their life?

As the years passed one thing became clear to the family. Babs Durz did not enjoy her new life. For two simple reasons the first was the children, Dene was a sweetheart of course but Kylya? Kylya couldn’t go a moment without reminding her who was paying whose bills, she like the town always managed to make orc sound like an insult, & perhaps most annoying is that they were so close in age Kylya just wouldn't listen. She couldn’t understand what gave a 13 year old the right to put her to bed?  
The second reason was more simple & as far as she was concerned worse. As she got older she noticed the looks she got & the reality of the situation, she knew she was “mature” for her age. There was no longer hiding her body in her mother’s clever stitching, men already leered & talked.  
She noticed her Daddy’s angry glare when they did it, something was gonna give. 

The townsquare was a mess whispers so prominent it was loud. Babs couldn’t look away as the whip hit her Daddy, “he shouldn’t of attacked them” half the people said, the other half were far smarter saying “he shouldn’t of been caught”. 

Her Daddy was punished for other mens wandering hands and loose tongues and as soon as he was healed the reality set in. His shovels locked up in the shed, he was allowed to use them no longer—not after what he did to that man’s face. De Durz was a proud man, she always felt proud when she saw him stand as straight as he could and look everyman who looked down on them in the eye, but seeing him dig on his hands and knees, tending the vast estates grounds with just his hands covered in dirt—she saw his pride break. 

Babs walked down to the grounds and sat next to him and started digging letting the dirt get in her nails.

“Sweetie—what’re you doin’ hon?” 

“If they have an income I’m supposed to say yes. Daddy—” she looked at his lame leg swollen now without his old shovel to lean on—”You played your part already, Momma’s playing hers, let me play mine—I have to—if only so neither of us work on the ground again.” She looked up at her Daddy and could only hold him while he cried. 

“Sweetie...I’m always your Daddy—that part never ends. Now go on inside. Oh and Bula, I love you.”

“....Daddy?”

She could only hold him while he cried.

 

”I HATE YOU I HA-” Kylya’s scream was silenced by Barbies giggle. They were sixteen & happy & she’s long learned how empty her words are.  
“Now now sweetie you have a party to attend I didn’t arrange it did I? That’s what I thought.”  
“I don’t want to go—they’re trying to marry me off to Mr. Crowells boy but he’s no boy Barbie—I don’t want to. Fear sunk into her voice.  
“I’m sorry, now c’mon Ice queen, let’s get you ready.”  
She dressed her as slowly as she could and by the time her hair was setting Mrs. Brooklines voice rang out.

“Barbara! Ms. Barbara Durz!!”

With a jolt Barbie ran down the stairs. Her mind raced. She was certain she hadn’t done anything that would get her in trouble, or at least that Mrs. Brookline wouldn’t know of any. “Yes Ma’am?’ she asked as respectfully she could.

“Go get ready. I’ve spoken to Mr. Crowell & he’ll allow you to come!! He’s looking for a wife for his nephew & he thinks you might just do! He wants to see you in person of course I suppose he didn’t trust my description of you—he just didn’t believe it when I said you bore no ugly orc tattoos nor piercings. No I said she was no orc a real lady.” Mrs. Brookline said it all like it was a gift, a compliment. Clearly expecting a thank you for this apparent service Barbie obliged and went to get ready.  
“Momma?”  
“Yes Dearie?”  
“Can I borrow a dress? Mrs. Brookline—she’s presenting me to Mr. Crowell—did you know?”  
“Momma”  
“Mom”  
“I’m sorry. Amy’s old enough to start working and Mrs. Brookline wanted to help, Dearie I’m so sorry.”  
“..I’ll ask Aunt Barbara for a dress.”

It was nice in a way having this penny finally drop.

Her Daddy cried. “If he ever pulls anything you tell me ok? I’m always digging one body ain’t anything, you understand?” he made sure to say this within earshot of Igrin. 

She tried not to think about how hunched her daddy was walking her down the aisle—how she was taller than him in flats—how pitiful he now looked. But seeing the fear in Igrins eyes she smiled—Her Daddy still had it.

In a month Barbie was led to her new house. It was pleasant enough and she would be allowed to fix it up to her tastes—this—this would be ok she thought. Her family was provided for. She was provided for, & Igrin was kind enough. He had just finished up his apprenticeship in the mines & now needed someone to keep the house for him. He seemed to understand the business of the deal.

He made no pretenses about it. He simply said as if this were just a deal & not marriage “The house must be maintained for company, I expect you’ll want to set it to your tastes that’s fine. I don’t like pork so don’t bother cooking it, fish’ll do it’s cheaper anyway. I want three children within the next five years sound tolerable to you?” 

As cold as only an orc could be Babs (only Babs to him) replied “Believe me when I say I tolerate you Igrin. Yes that’ll do nicely.” As simple as that however as three years passed it became clear that no children would be borne to them. After the 3rd baby was lost Barbie simply started working at the clinic outside the mines. She was there often enough anyway & only their eyes could she stand. There was no pity.

It started out as just cleaning and caretaking, often stitching as she was the best seamstress around (second best if you asked her or her mother, third if you asked her Aunt). Things changed.  
“What’re you looking at?”  
“Their throats are sore—see the redness?”  
“Oh”  
.  
.  
.  
“Here drink this.”  
Mrs. Daze what are you doing?”  
“They got into trikle plants outside, the broth will soothe their throat”  
“..broth?”  
“Broth, soup, call it what you will.”  
“Dr. Daze” he said with a laugh, “This is medicine. You made medicine.”  
“Soup.” 

 

As uncouth as it was for her to work it did wonders for her relationship. In their tragedies whilst she could never make the claim she was in love with Igrin, she did love him and they were best friends for how little they saw each other. In her off time she was becomingly exceedingly close to a young nurse named Mizim. A beauty to her people with her dark locks & shining eyes. 

They grew close and while tongues wagged & scandals were threatened they remained close & only close after all Barbie was married & Mizim as perfect as she was, she was poor and Barbie had a role to keep on performing.

Nothing was as shocking as a role changing. Not death. Not life, thought Barbie as she ran through the battlefield with buckets and rags. With Igrin on an expedition through the new cavern & battles flaring up for only god knows what reason Mrs. Daze found herself herself being asked away from home and as previously noted, found herself. This was a role she could play. She wouldn’t have to think how it affected her—her family. No all she had to do was save them—no matter the cost. For the first time in almost 20 years of life Barbie (Babs no longer) found herself alive. It only took death to do it.  
Mizim was beautiful, covered in dirt and blood, dress ripped, panting , leaning on one of her Daddy’s shovels (he insisted they take if only to protect themselves.) because she didn’t have the strength to stand. In another life Barbie thought as she dug the tenth grave of the day—and gods know there will be more—in another life...maybe she’d act on it.

It was night and pouring when a knock was at her door. She couldn’t stop her sigh. She had just gotten home from the clinic, there was some rampart bug around and it was taking everyone down with it. Still the knock was odd, No one payed a visit at Mrs. Dazes when Mr. Daze was out save for the local ladies, & none would be out and about at this hour. “Yes?” Barbie asked as cautiously as she was allowed, opening the door a sliver. After gathering her visitors she threw it open. “Kylya!? Dene!? Oh my stars what’s wrong!?” They didn’t answer. They just looked at her with their tear-stained faces & let their blackened hands do the talking. She quickly brought them to the clinic. Barbie would leave the clinic in six months. They never did. 

The clinic was a nightmare. Something was wrong and no one knew what. All they knew was something was poisoning them, the only visual sign was a blackness crawling up you perhaps a leg, or an arm, or in patients that fade quickly, the face.

“Hey Ice Queen.” Dr. Daze asked quietly. She didn’t get an answer—Kylya hasn’t answered in three days. Today was different however. With a broken off whimper Barbie started singing a lullaby she hadn't sung in almost five years. She could do this at least. She could help her sleep. The poison helped more. 

“Hello my little Sparrow.” Dr. Daze said lovingly into the room. Dene was always such a sweetheart & what would usually get her a laugh or a embarrassed plea only got silence and with that she left the room a little more broken than before and didn’t bother checking it again.

It took Mr. Harvr the next day  
Mrs. Jaspett the next week  
Mx. Saspiyr the next day  
The other Mrs. Jaspett the next  
Mr. Rood the ne-  
Her little sister...just a baby  
Mx. Gonso  
Mr. Roph  
Her Auntie Barbara—she learned to walked by going to her.  
Mrs.-  
Mr.-  
Ms.-  
Mx.-  
M-  
It didn’t stop. Barbie thought the worst was the kids. Then it took Mrs Brookeline who died without any grace. She couldn’t even clean herself properly in the end. At least the children had that. Then Mr. Brookeline alone for the first time in his life passed and while she never cared for him, the illness didn’t take him. He did with a rope and his thoughts. That hurt more than anything. Finally Igrin passed and that...that just about killed her. She was never in love with him but. She never appreciated him either, with death all around as alone as she was Dr. Daze (Mrs. Daze no longer) promised herself to never take a friend for granted again, after all without them? She'd be stuck having to save herself.

Mrs. Barbara (No longer Barbie) Daze was 21 years old, a widow, a doctor, a lover, a fighter, and a friend to everyone who struggled to stay alive so far. She was tired. Her Left eye wasn’t working, black spots blurred it’s vision. But she finally found a cure.  
“Mizim! Mizim Dear! Come here!!” she yelled. 

Mizim barreled in. “Yes?” she asked exhaustion evident in her voice. 

“I did it” 

“What” 

“I DID IT”

“ARE YOU SURE?”

“Yes. But…” Barbie let it trail off before taking a breath, annoyance dripping off every word. “We need a financier—these supplies. They’re expensive almost every ingredient was imported I can’t make enough for everyone.” They both knew the solution. There was only one place nearby that could—would—might finance them but they’ve made a point not going there again. They weren’t exactly friendly to each other during the war. Barbie was sure the local government didn’t appreciate how many bones of theirs she broke to prove a point. Mizim was sure they didn’t appreciate the shovels they carried into the meetings to save time.

“Barbie?” Mizims voice rang gently through the woods as they traveled.  
“Yes?” 

“Did you know that most dwarves. Almost all of them actually..only love once?” she let her question hang in silence. It would be days before an answer.

“Mizim?” Barbie asked gently as they prepared to stop for the night—right outside the capitol.

“Yes?” Mizim replied absentmindedly taking stock of the inns room.

“It would be an honor to be loved by you.” There were no more words said that night. 

That morning Barbie woke up exhausted. She needed to appear strong, determined, any sign of weakness and they'll go home empty handed . There was one clear weakness... Barbie looked in the mirror with steel in her eyes & grabbed a spare cloth. Her dead eye needed to go. There was no scream but Barbie swears the blood never washed off her hands, & Mizim couldn’t quite meet her eyes—eye. Still Barbie thought sardonically years later her eyes would always be steeley now.

“Oh hello Mrs. Daze—oh wait it’s just Dr. now isn’t?” He said almost crulley. “What you’re asking me to do is madness. You’re asking me to save you? After all you’ve done?”

“You’ll kill a town just to kill me? That’s madness—it has a mine—new caverns everyday—plenty of fishing—surely you won’t throw out all of that over one petty rivalry”  
.  
.  
.  
“What if I promise to die?  
“What are you saying?”  
“Save them I’ll throw myself off a cliff I don’t care, just save them”  
“Promise me to die.”  
“I promise.”  
“Ok now promise me to live.”  
“Wh-”  
“You’re going to live as long as possible with the poison in your veins who knows how long it’ll hurt but all I need to know is that it hurts—everyday—everyday you stumble on deaths door? That’s a victory for me. Understand you stupid orc?”  
“ I Understand”  
“Good. He gestured to a man behind him, you orcs wear your pride on your faces—tattoos, piercings, I want everyone who sees your face to know you gave it up—that you gave it up to me.”

The tattoos were a beautiful swirling red the design intricate enough that the conversation wasn’t obvious unless you looked close but any orc, any who understand their symbols, and markings, this was a marking of emptyness—her life—her life was forfeit and she choose it. 

The deal was struck. This was fine. She wouldn't be but—they would be fine. Mizim still wouldn’t meet her eye.

There were no words spoken.

Silence.

Silence.

Silence.

The people were getting better. Everyone was getting better. Everyone except the one person she’d trade them all for. “Mizim?” 

“I told you. I won’t be complicit in your demise.” 

“...”

“Mizim” 

“A dwarf only loves once. I wish I choose better.”

“Mizim” 

“….”

“Mizim” 

“...I”

“Mizim” 

“You’ve wasted my heart.”

‘Mizim”

“Goodbye my love.” 

“Mi-” 

Barbie cleaned out the clinic the next day.  
The town was in shambles. The people needed to be fed, The houses needed to be rebuilt. Everyone, Everyone needed to be taken care of. In the absence of her kids, of her loves, her life, it didn’t fill the void. But it was a start.

Barbie was 27 when Lila started coming into town. They ran into each other often. It almost always ending with Barbie nearly dying. She was a capitol spy it was barely an open secret. One day she’d be the death of her. Barbie adored her. 

Something about Lila drew her in. Her eyes weren’t sweet & childlike like Mizims. No they were intelligent & cunning. Her ambitions clear, her hair was golden. Barbie was drawn to her like a flame. 

While Mizim was a nurse, Lila was a jeweler, their courtship was extravagant. Barbie was always modest with her orc piercings but under Lila’s gifts she found herself getting more and more. They were cursed so that if a non dwarf touched one they’d be burned by the fire that forged them..dwarves were oddly possessive. Barbie found it charming & given the situations she found herself in—lifesaving. Barbie in return sewed her clothes as beautiful as any ladies and as practical as any man’s. 

They were engaged in a year, with all their work they couldn’t find the time for a wedding but they didn’t let that stop them from having a family. They adopted a baby boy a little dwarfling in their second year, he was perfect with fuzzy hair so light it was almost white and dark eyes. It was going perfect it was love—not that Barbie would admit that no matter how desperately Lila wanted to hear it—She wasn’t going to waste another dwarfs heart.

Then Lila came back from an info exchange “When were you going to tell me?” Lila demanded tears in her eyes.

Barbie’s eye widened catching on immediately. “Honestly l-babe. I thought you already knew?” 

“HOW WOULD I KNOW IF YOU DIDN’T TELL ME!?” 

“Uhhh….” Barbie couldn’t quite answer that, she was under the impression her activities were an open secret, clearly they were not. Suddenly the door knocked & both sighed out of relief for different reasons. She really needed to stop taking walk ins.  
As Barbie left looking remorseful, Lila sat down, she needed to think, she needed to save her. But as she looked at their baby—their little lamb, she knew one thing. She knew one thing—even if she couldn’t save her—she couldn’t watch her die. 

When she returned the cradle was empty. The cra-she wouldn’t-her baby. Her baby was gone. She would never see her little lamb again. Lila—Lila had him, she left his toy. She did the only thing she could do, she tucked the toy lamb in and started rocking the cradle, trying to sing her lullaby, she could-she couldn’-she couldn’t get the words out. She settled for humming instead, it would never be sung again, she couldn’t. She didn’t move until another walk in was made three days later. 

Later she’d notice the rings were missing from her chest—she left them there so she didn’t lose her in a patient, she noticed more things missing too, everything they made together was gone, she left the lamb on purpose then—she tried to figure out what that meant. She was so tired.

Barbie threw herself into her adventures answering whenever she was called, carrying no weapon but her Daddy’s shovel, she carried it to protect her, but it barely did anything but dig graves. She gained so many children, hoping to fill an ever growing void and as the children were lost she continued. This cycle repeated for ten years.  
She was 40 years old and had lost more than she’d ever hoped to gain. 

She finally found something.  
It was a 7 year old child. She was alone & Barbie didn’t know why. She didn’t ask anything, all she did was hold her hand and walk. They walked together for almost a year till they reached the child’s destination in that time she knew 3 things .  
1\. her name was Nyx.  
2\. She was perfect.  
3\. She didn’t wanna leave her behind. For the first time in Barbie's life, she promised to visit.

In a mine in the North one dwarf was working on something in particular. Sure hooks were nice & pegs would never go out of style but? What if. What if he could make fully functional limbs. He had called in a couple favors to get who he needed here.  
“Hello?” Barbie called out. As she walked into the workshop she was blown away. “This? This is-”

“Brilliant?” A beautiful Dwarrowdam replied. 

“Help me pack”

“What I just-you called me up here & you’re leaving”

“I assumed it’d be easier to work from home”.

“...I’m taking you home?” Barbie asked genuinely confused.

“Buy me dinner first.” answered Chris with a grin. “Actually” he said eyeing her up “yeah just take me home. He added a wink for effect. 

Barbie should of done anything else but instead she blushed and smiled—She should be more careful but it’s not like it mattered in the long run anyway. 

Barbie was 41 and she was introducing who might as well be a stranger to her family as she moved him into her home. She tried not to think about the fact she had just learned his name when he introduced himself to her Father. She was getting to old for l-she was getting to old for life. 

“I’ll leave you behind.”

“You’ll leave me behind anyway”

“I’ll die”

“I’ll live”

“I lo-like you’

“I like like you too”

Barbie was 42 & she was happy, people died, people changed, she was alive.

She was 43. & she was happy, people died, people changed, she was alive, her children were alive.  
People died.  
People died.  
People died.  
Her children died.  
She was alive.  
She tried to be happy. 

Her baby boy fell off a horse—River was supposed to—Barbie broke her Daddy’s shovel on his head—she stopped carrying it after that. 

“Momma?”

“Yes Rosa sweetie?”

“Do you love me?”

“Of course I do.” 

“Why don’t you stay then, am I not enough of a reason?” 

“That’s not it Sweetie, I just love you enough to leave.”

Barbie was 49 when she decided to visit Nyx again. She just had to make her rounds. She needed to make sure she was alive at least. None of her son's were. She had to check on her daughter. 

Nyx was 16 & beautiful and young, joy lighting up her face when she saw Barbie. Barbie started preparing to never see it again when she announced what she choose for her apprenticeship. She wanted to be a healer, She wanted her to teach her. Barbie should’ve said no. The girl deserved better but there were empty beds at home, a house that felt too big. Perhaps this will fill it up. 

 

Barbie was 50 & she was happy. Her children were alive. She was alive. 

She removed her legs that year. The blackness had spread to the thigh.

“Momma?”

“Yes Rosa baby?”

“I understand what you meant now.”

“I’m sorry.”

“So am I.” 

Barbie was 52 before she could walk again. Just in time to walk Nyx out the door. A knock rang before their last goodbye. She had a house call. “Please make sure the children eat. They’re napping right now, they caught a bug in school. Wake them for supper.” She asked Nyx.

Nyx was 19 when she lost her first patient. She didn’t wait for Barbie to come back. Little Kylya didn’t wake for supper. 

Barbie was 53, she was alive, some of her children were alive. She was trying to be happy. Chris wasn’t. 

“Dye your hair.”

“Why?’

“You look too old love.” 

“ “ 

“ Sweetheart I’m sorry.”

“ “

“Sweetie” 

“Barbie” 

“I’m leaving you behind.” 

“I know that.” 

“I know you know that. It’s obvious now. Only a few years left.”

“Don’t”

“I’ll dye it in the morning.”

“Goodnight babe”

Chris liked the pink. She said it made her look younger. It did.  
Barbie was 54 when Rosa left. She wasn’t happy. No one was happy. 

“This is my home.” Chris said into the darkness of their bedroom one night.

“What”

“I can’t do a goodbye. You’re right. You’re leaving me behind. You need to leave me behind.”

“I told you not to stay.”

“I know that” Chris snapped ”But this is my home. You’ve been gone all the the time I painted these walls I picked those curtains, I picked these floors,-I” Chris went on

Barbie forced her voice to steady “Love?”

He suddenly stopped yelling his mouth almost agape, his eyes almost unbelieving. “What did you just-” 

“I’ll go in the morning. I should get started early, I have so many to say goodbye to.” Barbie found herself crying. “This life. I’ve been so lucky to have it. I’m so lucky to loose it too.”

“How can you say that!?”

“Think about it, all those I’ve said goodbye to already.” Barbie felt herself smile finally at peace for a moment “Soon I’ll get to say hello again.” 

Barbie was 55 when she wrote a letter to Nyx, Asking her to meet her at a bar she knew of, She knew she was in the area. They needed to talk. 

Nyx was 22 when she received a letter from her old friend. As she read it she found herself crying. There was praise for every achievement she had in her absence & not a single mention of any of her failures. In fact the letter seemed to suggest Barbie didn’t agknowledge them. It was just the same message over and over again. “I’m proud of you” “I love you” “I miss you”, and a place to meet. There was something finalizing about it. Nyx’s closest friends may call her obtuse but...something was off. She didn’t mention any of her children, she didn’t mention Chris. With a set goal in mind she decided to go to the bar. She was gonna be in the area anyway & found herself smiling at that, of course Barbie knew that—why? How? She’d never ever know. Being Barbie gave her a magic of her own. It’s why she wanted to be like her. It wasn’t just using magic. Being her—being like her made her magic.  
There was a knock. 

“Hello? This is Barbie.” 

Nyx loved her. 

Barbie was 55, people lived, people died, people changed, her children were alive, she was alive, they were happy.

Barbie was happy.

**Author's Note:**

> Dyke Rights  
> also Dwarrowdam just means chick dwarf


End file.
